Zarif yawns as he wakes up. He had been staying in the Weasley family's house sharing Ron's room since summer began. He admitted it was nice to be staying with them. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were very welcoming to him as a friend of the family.
It had been nearly a month since he had arrived, but something was wrong. Ron was not in his bed. Zarif was confused as Ron had slept later than he had every day since he got here. Then he heard Mrs. Weasley yelling and looked out the window to see Fred, George, Ron, and to his surprise Harry.
"Oh…no. What did you do Ron?" Zarif asks to the thin air itself as he got dressed before heading down to see all five of them now in there along with Mrs. Weasley. "Morning Mrs. Weasley," Zarif greets, noticing she was sending dirty looks at her three sons at the table at the moment.
"Oh, good morning Zarif dear," Mrs. Weasley says smiling at him.
"Anything the matter?" Zarif asks taking a seat next to Harry.
"No, dear," Mrs. Weasley says sweetly before giving him a plate and starting to put sausage and eggs on it.
"Oh, thank you. So Harry…how is your current summer going?" Zarif asks, almost acting oblivious to the predicament now until he sees the expression. "From that, I will guess not well,"
"We will fill you in later," George tells him.
"Does it involve explosions, escaping from danger, and the saving of a damsel?" Zarif almost theatrically asks jokingly.
"Well…" Fred start before squeal was heard and Zarif looked back and sees a flash of red briefly.
"Yep…that's what I thought," Zarif sighs tiredly.
"Ginny," Ron says in an undertone to Harry. "My sister. She's been talking about you all summer."
"Yeah, she'll be wanting your autograph, Harry," Fred said with a grin, but he caught his mother's eye and bent his face over his plate without another word. Nothing more was said until all four plates were clean, which took a surprisingly short time.
"Blimey, I'm tired," Fred yawned out, setting down his knife and fork at last. "I think I'll go to bed and —"
"You will not," Mrs. Weasley snapped. "It's your own fault you've been up all night. You're going to de-gnome the garden for me; they're getting completely out of hand again —"
"Oh, mum…" George adds.
"Those little munchkins? I got tired of them biting me so I kinda threw them away so hard, they flew to the horizon in some anger. Kept bothering me during reading time," Zarif mutters annoyed.
"You really did that dear?" Mrs. Weasley asks, thinking he exaggerated a bit.
"As sure as my wand's history will say," Zarif assured. "I was really annoyed…bit my book too."
"Oh, so that is why the ministry sent that owl."
"Oh…not in trouble, am I?" Zarif asks, a bit worried now.
"It was a warning, but if the gnomes were harassing you, then I believe Arthur can explain it to them on your behalf and have the warning removed from your record," Mrs. Weasley says before looking outside, searching for gnomes.
The Weasley boys at the table seem to smile at Zarif for doing that. "Alright, you three. I am going to check for gnomes real quick. You wait here till I return. Harry, you can go up and get some sleep," Mrs. Weasley says before grabbing a poker and goes out to check.
"Thanks for the save," the boys whispered happily.
"They were actually bothering me," Zarif states flatly.
"Well, while she is gone, I am heading to bed," Fred says.
"Won't she try to find more work for you to do?" Zarif asks and the two brothers quickly get up and rush to their rooms.
Life in the Burrow continued on as usual. The only real difference is after Harry arrived, Zarif started to send letters with the Weasley's owl to both Hermione and Merula. He let them know what had happened and what Harry had told him of how the Dursleys treated him. Hermione's letter came back with the Errol who Zarif petted and treated the old owl in thanks. Her letter said she was in complete disbelief about that and that she and her parents were going to get Hermione's school supplies in a few weeks. She also added that her parents accidentally read this and had half a mind to call the government to report them for child abuse. Merula's letter arrived a bit later delivered by a very strong looking European eagle owl. Merula's letter was filled with disgust about hearing about this and that these muggles needed to learn they shouldn't dare do this against a wizard.
Zarif showed both the letters to the Weasleys who saved Harry and to Harry himself. Harry seemed happy about the concern the two shown in their letter while the Weasley brothers' opinions of Merula seemed to have improved despite being a Slytherin as Fred and George said.
Zarif spent weeks leading up to their trip to the Diagon Alley studying spells and different potions and ingredients. He also started working on spells when a new letter arrived from the ministry informing Zarif they have removed the warning from his record and, because of his condition, he is allowed to practice spells for the upcoming school year as long as it is not in front of a muggle, is being supervised by a graduated witch or wizard, and has regular checkups with a ministry appointed healer. This surprised Mrs. Weasley until she was informed of Zarif's condition and how because of it, he sometimes lagged behind in classes by Mr. Weasley.
Then on Wednesday, they woke all up early. After a quick half a dozen bacon sandwiches each, they pulled on their coats and Mrs. Weasley took a flowerpot off the kitchen mantelpiece and peered inside. "We're running low, Arthur," she sighed. "We'll have to buy some more today…ah well, guests first! After you, Harry dear!" Mrs. Weasley says offering him the flowerpot to Harry's confusion.
"W-what am I supposed to do?" he stammered.
"He's never traveled by Floo powder," Ron says suddenly remembering. "Sorry, Harry, I forgot."
"Never?" Mr. Weasley asks confused. "But how did you get to Diagon Alley to buy your school things last year?"
"I went on the Underground…"
"Really?" Mr. Weasley asks eagerly. "Were there escapators? How exactly…"
"Not now, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley says. "Floo powder's a lot quicker, dear, but goodness me, if you've never used it before…"
"He'll be all right, Mum," Fred says. "Harry, watch us first."
He took a pinch of glittering powder out of the flowerpot, stepped up to the fire, and threw the powder into the flames.
With a roar, the fire turned emerald green and rose higher than Fred, who stepped right into it, shouted, "Diagon Alley!" and vanished.
"You must speak clearly, dear," Mrs. Weasley told Harry as George dipped his hand into the flowerpot. "And be sure to get out at the right grate…"
"The right what?" Harry says nervously as the fire roared and whipped George out of sight, too.
"Well, there are an awful lot of wizard fires to choose from, you know, but as long as you've spoken clearly…"
"He'll be fine, Molly, don't fuss," said Mr. Weasley, helping himself to Floo powder too.
"But, dear, if he got lost, how would we ever explain to his aunt and uncle?"
"They wouldn't mind," Harry reassured her. "Dudley would think it was a brilliant joke if I got lost up a chimney, don't worry about that."
"Well…all right…you go after Arthur," Mrs. Weasley says. "Now, when you get into the fire, say where you're going."
"And keep your elbows tucked in," Ron advised.
"And your eyes shut," Mrs. Weasley said. "The soot…"
"Don't fidget," Ron said. "Or you might well fall out of the wrong fireplace."
"But don't panic and get out too early; wait until you see Fred and George." Mrs. Weasley adds.
"That's…a lot of rules…I don't think even muggle vehicles have that much," Zarif jokes a bit with a small smile.
"Rather take a driving test early now," Harry jokes back.
"Zarif, how about you go with Harry?" Mrs. Weasley asks, not liking being reminded of the car her husband had charmed.
"Uh…can that take two people?" Zarif asks, both him and Harry eyeing the fireplace with some apprehension now.
"Yes, it can," Mrs. Weasley assures.
Trying hard to bear all this in mind, Harry took a pinch of Floo powder and walked to the edge of the fire with Zarif. He took a deep breath, scattered the powder into the flames, and stepped forward with Zarif; the fire felt like a warm breeze; he opened his mouth and immediately swallowed a lot of hot ash.
"D-Dia-gon Alley," he coughed.
The fire engulfed the two of them and took them off, leaving an empty fireplace.
"What did he say?" Mrs. Weasley asks her son.
Zarif and Harry, when they exited the floo system, hit the floor hard. "No matter how many times I do that," Zarif says a bit nauseous.
Dizzy and bruised, covered in soot, the two boys got to their feet, Harry holding his broken glasses up to his eyes. Where they were, they had no idea. All Harry could tell was that he was standing in the stone fireplace of what looked like a large, dimly lit wizard's shop, but nothing in here was ever likely to be on a Hogwarts school list.
Zarif's eyes scan the shop. A glass case nearby held a withered hand on a cushion, a bloodstained pack of cards, and a staring glass eye. Evil-looking masks stared down from the walls, an assortment of human bones lay upon the counter, and rusty, spiked instruments hung from the ceiling. Zarif had a feeling everything in here was dark magic related at least.
Harry, despite having a hard time seeing, felt like the sooner he got out of here, the better. His nose still stinging where it had hit the hearth, Harry made his way swiftly and silently toward the door, but before he'd got halfway toward it, two people appeared on the other side of the glass and one of them was the very last person Harry wanted to meet when he was lost, covered in soot, and wearing broken glasses: Draco Malfoy.
Zarif, spying this, already had looked quickly around and spotted a large black cabinet before grabbing Harry and hurried into it before he pulled the doors closed, leaving a small crack to peer through for them. Seconds later, a bell clanged, and Malfoy stepped into the shop.
The man who followed could only be Draco's father. He had the same pale, pointed face and identical cold, gray eyes. Mr. Malfoy crossed the shop, looking lazily at the items on display, and rang a bell on the counter before turning to his son and saying, "Touch nothing, Draco."
Malfoy, who had reached for the glass eye, said, "I thought you were going to buy me a present."
"I said I would buy you a racing broom," said his father, drumming his fingers on the counter.
"What's the good of that if I'm not on the house team?" Malfoy said, looking sulky and bad-tempered. "Harry Potter got a Nimbus Two Thousand last year. Special permission from Dumbledore so he could play for Gryffindor. He's not even that good, it's just because he's famous…famous for having a stupid scar on his forehead…" Draco finishes as he bent down to examine a shelf full of skulls. "…everyone thinks he's so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and his broomstick…"
"You have told me this at least a dozen times already," Mr. Malfoy says, with a quelling look at his son. "And I would remind you that it is not…prudent…to appear less than fond of Harry Potter, not when most of our kind regard him as the hero who made the Dark Lord disappear, ah. Mr. Borgin."
A stooping man had appeared behind the counter, smoothing his greasy hair back from his face.
"Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again," Mr. Borgin says in a voice as oily as his hair. "Delighted…and young Master Malfoy, too, charmed. How may I be of assistance? I must show you, just in today, and very reasonably priced…"
"I'm not buying today, Mr. Borgin, but selling," Mr. Malfoy says.
"Selling?" the smile faded slightly from Mr. Borgin's face.
"You have heard, of course, that the Ministry is conducting more raids," Mr. Malfoy said, taking a roll of parchment from his inside pocket and unraveling it for Mr. Borgin to read. "I have a few…ah…items at home that might embarrass me if the Ministry were to call…"
Mr. Borgin fixed a pair of pince-nez to his nose and looked down the list. "The Ministry wouldn't presume to trouble you, sir, surely?"
Mr. Malfoy's lip curled. "I have not been visited yet. The name Malfoy still commands a certain respect, yet the Ministry grows ever more meddlesome. There are rumors about a new Muggle Protection Act, no doubt that flea-bitten, muggle-loving fool Arthur Weasley is behind it…"
Zarif took note of this and took to committing all of this to memory while Harry felt a hot surge of anger.
"…and as you see, certain of these poisons might make it appear…"
"I understand, sir, of course," said Mr. Borgin. "Let me see…"
"Can I have that?" Draco interrupted, pointing at the withered hand on its cushion.
"Ah, the Hand of Glory!" Mr. Borgin says, abandoning Mr. Malfoy's list and scurrying over to Draco. "Insert a candle and it gives light only to the holder! Best friend of thieves and plunderers! Your son has fine taste, sir."
"I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin," Mr. Malfoy says coldly, and Mr. Borgin quickly apologized, "No offense, sir, no offense meant…"
"Though if his grades don't pick up," Mr. Malfoy says, more coldly still, "That may indeed be all he is fit for…"
"It's not my fault," retorted Draco. "The teachers all have favorites, that Hermione Granger…"
'Ha! It's truly the most pathetic who blames others for their failures,' Zarif thinks.
"I would have thought you'd be ashamed that a girl of no wizard family beats you in every exam," Mr. Malfoy snapped.
"Ha!" Harry says under his breath, pleased to see Draco looking both abashed and angry. A moment later, Zarif was covering his mouth with his hand.
"It's the same all over," Mr. Borgin says, in his oily voice. "Wizard blood is counting for less everywhere…"
"Not with me," Mr. Malfoy says, his long nostrils flaring.
"No, sir, nor with me, sir," Mr. Borgin says, with a deep bow.
'Obviously kissing up, but…it may come in handy to know your feelings on this,' Zarif thinks.
"In that case, perhaps we can return to my list," said Mr. Malfoy shortly. "I am in something of a hurry, Borgin, I have important business elsewhere today."
They started to haggle. The two watched nervously as Draco drew nearer and nearer to his hiding place, examining the objects for sale. Draco paused to examine a long coil of hangman's rope and to read, smirking, the card propped on a magnificent necklace of opals, Caution: Do Not Touch. Cursed — Has Claimed the Lives of Nineteen Muggle Owners to Date.
Draco turned away and saw the cabinet right in front of him. He walked forward, stretched out his hand for the handle…"Done," Mr. Malfoy said at the counter. "Come, Draco."
Harry wiped his forehead on his sleeve as Draco turned away as Zarif lowered his finger, ready to cast a spell.
"Good day to you, Mr. Borgin. I'll expect you at the manor tomorrow to pick up the goods."
The moment the door had closed, Mr. Borgin dropped his oily manner. "Good day yourself, Mister Malfoy, and if the stories are true, you haven't sold me half of what's hidden in your manor…" Muttering darkly, Mr. Borgin disappeared into a back room. Harry waited for a minute in case he came back, then, quietly as he could, slipped out of the cabinet with Zarif, past the glass cases, and out of the shop door.
Harry and Zarif waited a moment before exiting the hiding place and clutching his broken glasses to his face, Harry stared around. He and Zarif had emerged into a dingy alleyway that seemed to be made up entirely of shops devoted to the Dark Arts. The one they'd just left, Borgin and Burkes, looked like the largest, but the opposite was a nasty window display of shrunken heads and, two doors down, a large cage was alive with gigantic black spiders. Two shabby-looking wizards were watching him from the shadow of a doorway, muttering to each other.
"Look like we belong," Zarif whispers before pulling him along to look closer at the spiders. "I think that is an Acromantula. It must be very young," Zarif says, trying to look genuinely interested.
"What about here?" Harry asks, moving to another window with many books, but Zarif can see some coffins and dark plants lying around.
"I think that shop specializes in necromancy from the looks of it," Zarif says making Harry's eyes go wide. "No true bringing back the dead. More like turning corpses into puppets," Zarif adds before they heard someone call to them.
"What…are you two doing here?" a girl asks in surprise behind them.
Zarif turns around to see Merula. "Looking around," Zarif says quickly before smiling at her. "How have you been?"
Merula sighs. "We have to get you two out of here. Especially Gryffindors…unless you have a strong connection to someone of high standing Slytherin, best to get out as quick as possible."
"Like you?" Zarif asks.
"I am not that high," Merula tries to play off, taking a quick look around.
Harry was about to say something when a new voice called out. "Harry, Zarif, Merula! What d'yeh think yer doin' down there?"
Turning, the three saw Hagrid walking up to them before he ushered them all away. "Skulkin' around Knockturn Alley, I dunno dodgy place, Harry, don' want no one ter see yeh down there."
"I realized that," Harry said, ducking as Hagrid made to brush him off. "I was lost, what were you doing down there, anyway?"
"I was lookin' fer a Flesh-Eatin' Slug Repellent," Hagrid growled. "They're ruinin' the school cabbages. Yer not on yer own you three?"
"Zarif and I are staying with the Weasleys but we got separated," Harry explained. "I've got to go and find them…"
"We were using the Floo system, but Harry got choked up trying to say the destination," Zarif explains before whispering to Merula. "Talk later?"
Merula nods and slinks away with the others not noticing.
With that, Hagrid leads Harry and Zarif back to Diagon Alley. Along the way, Harry explains why he hadn't been able to write him back. "Lousy Muggles," Hagrid growled. "If I'd've known…"
"Harry! Zarif! Over here!" The three looked up and saw Hermione Granger standing at the top of the white flight of steps to Gringotts. She ran down to meet them, her bushy brown hair flying behind her. "What happened to your glasses, Hello, Hagrid, oj, it's wonderful to see you two again, are you coming into Gringotts, you two?"
"All in one breath too," Zarif says impressed.
"As soon as I've found the Weasleys," Harry says.
"Yeh won't have long ter wait," Hagrid said with a grin.
Harry, Hermione, and Zarif looked around. Sprinting up the crowded street were Ron, Fred, George, Percy, and Mr. Weasley. "Harry, Zarif," Mr. Weasley panted. "We hoped you both had only gone one grate too far…" he mopped his glistening bald patch. "Molly's frantic, she's coming now."
"Where did you come out?" Ron asked.
"Knockturn Alley," Hagrid says grimly.
"Excellent!" Fred and George said together.
"We've never been allowed in," Ron said enviously.
"I should ruddy well think not," Hagrid growled as Mrs. Weasley now came galloping into view, her handbag swinging wildly in one hand, Ginny just clinging onto the other.
"Though, I would like to know how they got that Acromantula," Zarif says getting an interesting look from them, except for Mr. Weasley and Ron.
"Oh, Harry, Zarif…oh, my dears…you could have been anywhere…" Gasping for breath, she pulled a large clothes brush out of her bag and began sweeping off the soot Hagrid hadn't managed to beat away from Harry. Mr. Weasley took Harry's glasses, gave them a tap of his wand, and returned them, good as new.
"Well, gotta be off," said Hagrid, who was having his hand wrung by Mrs. Weasley.
"Knockturn Alley! If you hadn't found him, Hagrid!"
"See yer at Hogwarts!" And he strode away, head and shoulders taller than anyone else in the packed street.
"Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione as they climbed the Gringotts steps. "Malfoy and his father."
"Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?" Mr. Weasley says sharply behind them as it was Zarif's turn to be getting cleaned by Mrs. Weasley.
"No, he was selling…" Harry started.
"So he's worried," Mr. Weasley says with grim satisfaction. "Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something…"
"You be careful, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley warns sharply as they were bowed into the bank by a goblin at the door. "That family's trouble. Don't go biting off more than you can chew."
"So you don't think I'm a match for Lucius Malfoy?" Mr. Weasley says indignantly, but he was distracted almost at once by the sight of Hermione's parents, who were standing nervously at the counter that ran all along the great marble hall, waiting for Hermione to introduce them.
"But you're Muggles!" Mr. Weasley says delightedly. "We must have a drink! What's that you've got there? Oh, you're changing Muggle money. Molly, look!" he pointed excitedly at the ten-pound notes in Mr. Granger's hand.
"Meet you back here," Ron said to Hermione as the Weasleys and Harry were led off to their underground vaults by another Gringotts goblin.
"Sorry, but quite a few in here try not to even live in your world," Zarif apologizes to Hermione's parents before heading that way as well.
Zarif had ridden along with the group. Hermione's parents seemed to be having the worst of the ride from their expressions. They went to both Harry and the Weasley's vault. Zarif thought they were going to head back before a new goblin walked up. He looked like an older one and talked to the one that was traveling before they both looked at Zarif. "Mr. Trazax, please follow me," the elder one says surprising the Weasleys.
"Um…what about?" Zarif asks confused.
"We have special instructions," the elder one says before taking him to a new cart.
Zarif and the Elder goblin rode the cart down lower and lower into the depths, making Zarif wonder how far down they were going till they stopped in front of an obsidian black door. "Here," the elder goblin says handing him an old looking key of the same color. Zarif gulped, understanding that this vault was his to open. Getting out of the cart, Zarif starts walking to the vault, noticing the goblin hadn't gotten out of the cart.
After a bit of searching, Zarif found a keyhole and put the key inside causing the vault to start to glow with silver outlines before slowly starting to open up and Zarif heads inside it. As he walks in, the doors close behind him and will-o-wisps started to spring up, illuminating his way through this corridor. When he came to the end, torches started to light the flames of many different colors, illuminating a pile of money and a very ornate chest in the center of it all.
Zarif walks to the chest, feeling as if something was calling to him from it. Zarif gulps as he puts his hand on it before pushing it open and inside there were three things. A shield that looked like it made of dragon materials and glowing faintly with magic, a wand that he recognized immediately, and a scroll that was sealed. Reaching in, Zarif wraps his fingers around the handle and felt a familiar shock from it and smiles. "Hi my old friend," Zarif says smiling as he raised the wand and sees it was his wand. His first wand.
Zarif hums as he looks it over and sees it is in pristine shape before raising and aiming at a torch. "Please don't hurt as much. Wingardium Leviosa," he calls and raises the torch, but feels his muscles clenching up like usual. Though Zarif noticed something, it wasn't as bad as with his other wand. Stopping the spell, he takes out his current wand and uses the same hand before doing the spell again, his muscles clenching up more before he drops it. "So…right wand…less trouble…welcome back," he sighs in relief as he puts his now old wand away and rolls the original in his hand.
"I throw nothing away. Both of you are my partners," Zarif says putting his original wand with his second wand. Zarif looks to the shield and then the scroll. Reaching down, he grabs the scroll and stops cold, seeing the seal. It was Merlin's seal. Zarif stood there for a long time, preparing himself for this. Until at last, he broke the seal and opened it up.
'Zarif, if you are reading this, then my faith has been rewarded and you are still alive. I write to you now as an old man reaching the end of his days. I have lived a long life. Full of good times and hardships. I have seen a boy become a king with the grace of god. I have watched him grow and become a man as I did with you. I trained many apprentices as I did with you. I watched them become strong and able to lead the wizarding world into a unity or at least the first steps to that. I watched many friends through good times and I have watched them all pass. Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Marcus the faithful to name a few. I have watched my teacher fall into madness and destroy himself before vanishing. I have watched one of my precious students destroy all my hopes and dreams for a peaceful unified Britania in my time. I had to watch the boy who became a king die before his time. But the one thing I had to watch and endure was how my first student. The one that appeared from nowhere. The one that didn't even know he has magic. The one who had to face a trial of illness that I have tried to fix in other known holders. I am sorry for anything I may have left on you to handle on your own. No one should go through what I did. Not even the pain of leaving a home. A place where he can feel safe. Like a family…guess that makes Marcus the mother. Imagine him in a dress. A funny thought.' Zarif had to stop reading for a moment as tears ran down his face as he tried to wipe them away while trying to smile. 'When we heard from the centaurs that you…had to go…it felt like something in our home disappeared. And when they gave me what you had…I realized what I led you to do. And now…I'm sorry. Looks like I wet the paper a bit.' Zarif lightly touches the now dried and crumbled up spot on the paper. 'Now I had a mission to accomplish. I gathered what you left in the world. What I could take and grab for you. Every single legacy you left that won't hurt others if I took it. Godric, before his death, sent me the shield he had made for you. He had one day hoped to give it to you himself when he would invite you to join Hogwarts. But alas, that was not meant to be like many things in our uncertain world. I ordered it all locked away in the vaults that you may find this letter in. As you grew up in my time, you shall connect with the past once more. It was an amazing lifetime to know you in. Now make the lifetime you were meant to live in. Honor all our memories by living your life to the fullest. Your teacher, Merlin.'
Zarif sniffs as he slowly drops the paper, now realizing he is sitting on the ground and trying to keep himself together. Then his eyes drift to the other side of the paper and notice a bit of extra writing and look at it. 'P.S. If they make me into something catchy, a card maybe, please make sure the inscription is nice and burn it if they are not.'
Zarif shook his head as he cried out his tears. Tears he had been holding back for years after seeing Merlin's image after coming back to this time. And others on a card game no less. What would he think now with a chocolate frog sitting on each one in a neat little package? Marcus would probably eat the frog through. And Merlin…he would maybe have a bit of fun and go hunting for the rest. The idea…and that's all it is. An idea. Zarif felt the image wash away. He can't focus that much on the past anymore. He does have to make his own future still.
Zarif, after a bit, rolled up the scroll and placed it back in before grabbing the shield. As he looked it over, he saw that the seal of Gryffindor was on the inside of the shield with Zarif's name inscribed under it.
He sighs as he then looks over to the pile of coins and notices how shiny and new they all look. While some in a few piles were of old age. Nowhere in the letter did Merlin talked about the money…but maybe it was part of the point. No need to focus on one thing. And certainly not with what he left…wait. Everything he has been through and left? But there are mostly only four things in this room so where's…
Zarif stops as he looks around and spots another sealed door, presumably with another keyhole. He sighs as he gets up and gathers the shield and wand, gathering some money for the supplies for school and some of the year. Taking one last look at the door while standing at the open end. "Another day," he sighs at, eyeing the chest where the scroll is kept before walking out, the vault closing behind him as he settles back into the cart.
The elder goblin eyes his shield for a moment before looking away and starts the cart, this time going up.
After exiting the bank, Zarif started turning many heads wherever he went with the shield now strapped to his back as for the first time in his life, he had his own money to spend. Zarif eventually made his way to the middle of the street when he stopped, looking at the pet store. After a bit of thinking and looking into his bag, he entered the pet shop. Zarif looked along the owls on display until his eyes locked with a Eurasian eagle-owl. Zarif and it stared at each other for a long while before Zarif swore he felt something click with the owl and went to the shopkeeper.
When Zarif exited, he was carrying the female owl in a cage as he headed to the final stop on his list. Flourish and Blotts where he saw a fight happening between Lucius Malfoy and Mr. Weasley to his surprise. What followed reminded Zarif of a bit of a circus or carnival display by Gilderoy and, right away, Zarif felt something was off about the man. After getting his books, Zarif preceded to meet up with the Weasley group again, surprising them that he had both an owl and a shield now.
"Going to face a dragon?" Fred asks humorously, breaking the thin ice. "Bring back another shield for us?"
"I got this from the vault they took me to," Zarif informs.
"You have a vault? Since when?" Ron had to ask.
"Apparently, I was left one by an ancestor who I never got to meet," Zarif says, trying to tell a convincing story.
The Weasleys and Harry considered this before nodding as for the Weasleys they had heard of such things for purebloods, while Harry experienced this himself.
"So…supplies?" Zarif asks, eyeing the other people on the street as they eye his shield.
"We are all done and ready to head back," Mrs. Weasley says before starting to usher them all away.
"Good. I rather put this away now," Zarif chuckles as he shrugs the shield and makes it clatter against him.
"So you got a name for your owl yet?" George asks calling attention to the owl.
"Autumn," Zarif quickly answered, looking to the owl in her cage as she stares at him.